Interrogation Techniques
by luvscharlie
Summary: After a night out with Charlie Weasley, Tonks is paying the price at the hands of her supervisor. Tonks/Kingsley, Tonks/Charlie


_Interrogation Techniques_ by Luvscharlie

_Warning: This is very, very explicit._

The lilac coloured paper airplane seemed to have been waiting for her when Tonks stepped off the lift and started to make her way toward the Auror Department. She brushed it off, already in quite a dither about the night before.

Really, you'd think a girl would learn. Nothing ever went well for her when Charlie Weasley came to town. She'd say last night was no exception, but the fact was that she couldn't actually remember last night. Or, to be more precise, she couldn't remember _much_ of the previous evening. There were bits and pieces that remained with her. For those, she prayed for a strong _Obliviate_.

~*~

From the bits and pieces she _could_ remember…

Tonks had met Charlie at the Hog's Head. Her seat had been sticky. Honestly, she thought, Aberforth could at least make an attempt to keep the pub tidy. Charlie had been as handsome and charming as ever. She was always amazed that one dimple and flash of straight, white, perfect teeth could turn her legs to jelly so quickly. And the freckles… well, don't even get her started thinking of those. She rather liked freckles… and muscles… and tattoos… and was it really any wonder that every class they'd had together at Hogwarts, in which they had a female professor, Charlie had aced? There wasn't a woman alive that was immune to his charms.

Weasley men. Pfft! Charlie and Bill, and those smiles, and the way they laughed, and the size of their… okay, her mind was wandering, but hangovers did that to a girl.

Back to the previous evening…

There had been Firewhisky, and lots of it. She'd matched Charlie drink for drink through the first bottle. A word to the wise, never try to drink a Weasley man under the table. It simply was not possible. She remembered them getting to about the halfway point of the second bottle.

"You okay there, Tonks?" Charlie had asked.

The night became a bit blurry after that.

~*~

The interoffice memo swirled above her head and dived down to poke her in the ear.

"All right! All right!" she shouted at the purple airplane, a decision she regretted immediately as her voiced reverberated off her skull. She entered Kingsley's office, ignored the man behind the desk and flopped down onto a chair, prying the airplane open to read the memo inside.

_Meeting at 9:00 a.m. All members of the Auror Department are required to attend.  
DO NOT BE LATE!_

Kingsley Shacklebolt  
Department Head  
Auror Department  
Ministry of Magic

Well, fuck, she thought, looking at her watch. 11:30 a.m. She peered anxiously over the top of the memo at her boss behind his desk. Kingsley cocked and inquisitive eyebrow in her direction.

"Um, it appears I missed our meeting."

"Would you care to explain yourself?" Kingsley asked.

He was clearly annoyed. Dear Merlin, that man was sexy when he was angry. Having a crush on one's boss wasn't all that odd, she didn't think, and Kingsley Shacklebolt certainly played a large role in many of her late night fantasies.

There was the fantasy of being trapped in the lift with him, when all of the sudden he would push her against the wall, slide his hand into her knickers and…

"Tonks! I asked you a question."

Tonks jumped at the sound of his voice and could feel her cheeks heat as she blushed. She attempted to shake off her reverie.

"Would you care to explain yourself?" Kingsley repeated.

"No, sir."

"You wouldn't care to explain yourself? Do you really believe that to be the wisest of answers? You missed a mandatory meeting. You were supposed to be in the office hours ago. And now you can't be arsed to explain why?"

Tonks cast her eyes downward, then looked at the wall, making an effort to focus her attention anywhere but on Kingsley—angry Kingsley, sexy Kingsley, Merlin, fuck-me-over-your-desk-right-now Kingsley.

"Tonks, I'm losing my patience. You'll either explain yourself or I'll be forced to—"

"Sir," Tonks interrupted, rising to her feet, yanking up her skirt and tugging down her knickers just past her bum to reveal a tattoo upon her right cheek. "I'm not sure how to explain this."

Kingsley came around his desk, scratching his chin in concentration. "That's nice. Is there a reason you're showing it to me?"

"I don't remember how I got it. I woke up this morning and there it was."

"I see." She thought she noted a twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"What is it exactly?" Tonks asked.

"A tattoo."

"I know that. I mean what does it look like? It's not exactly in the easiest place for my own viewing, you know," she said grumpily.

"It's a dragon."

_Of course it was. Damn that Charlie!_

"A large, pink dragon," Kingsley said, pressing against her back, his lips inches from her ear. She shuddered at his closeness. Her knickers were around her thighs, and Kingsley slid his fingers over her bum, caressing the sore spot that contained her new body art.

"Tell me it doesn't have anyone's name on it," she said hopefully. She would not put it past Charlie for a second to get her drunk, and take her to a tattoo parlor so that she would be forced to wear his name across her bum for life. Charlie would have found that a perfectly acceptable (and hilarious) prank. _Ours is a warped relationship._

"Should I expect to see the name of someone I know?" Kingsley asked, leaning in close enough that the warmth of his breath tickled her neck, her ear, her—yeah, there too, if not by direct contact, the electricity shooting through her body was certainly making it's presence known between her legs.

She pressed her hands against the wall to steady herself as Kingsley's strong hand pressed hard between her thighs, and his fingers slid between her legs to barely part her folds in a caress. She couldn't think. Her head was spinning as he brought a hand down on her sore bum with a sharp slap. "I asked you a question."

For the life of her, she couldn't remember what he'd asked. All she could think of was the fingers poised just outside her entrance, just shy of where she wanted them. She ground her hips down, but he was unrelenting in his pursuit of an answer. "I asked you if it was someone I knew. Who were you with last night?"

Her response was a whimper. Nothing more.

"Perhaps we should work on my interrogation techniques, Miss Tonks. Or… your ability to withstand them. After all, it is my duty to make sure you're well trained."

Oh yes, she liked where this was going. She liked it even better when he nipped her neck with his teeth and tugged her toward his desk, pushing her over it and using his wand to tie her hands behind her back. He leaned over her, and she could feel the hardness of his cock pressing into her thigh through his trousers. "Now, I believe I asked you for a name."

Tonks remained silent, the anticipation almost more than she could bear. Kingsley's hand came down hard upon her bum, and she wriggled as his fingers parted her, slipping over her many folds, teasing their way in and out.

"I expect you to answer when I'm speaking to you, bitch."

_Bitch?_ Okay, now he was going too far. She turned to offer protest, but his thumb pressed against her clit, and she no longer cared what he called her, so long as he didn't stop touching her. "Kingsley," she said with a sigh, grinding her hips down against his hand.

"No, I wasn't the one with you last night. That's not the name I'm waiting for." He pulled away his thumb and she whimpered at the lack of contact. "Tell me who you were with, and I'll give you what you want."

She was so close. His fingers teased across her folds, never quite reaching the destination she most wanted them. "Please," she gasped.

"You need only tell me the name," he said, his finger resting against her clit, but not pressing down.

"Charlie!" she answered, and he pressed down just a bit.

"You're so close. I can tell." He wiggled his finger for emphasis. "Tell me the rest. Charlie who?"

Her heart was racing and she felt that she may well implode at any moment, such was the intensity of her need. "Charlie Weasley," she near shouted.

His fingers moved over her, pressing against her clit at a frenzied pace. She came almost immediately in an explosion of colours that combined with the fact that her head already ached made the room spin as she struggled for equilibrium once more.

She lay across his desk, spent, as he released her from her bonds. "Your ability to withstand an interrogation could use a bit more practice, I think." Kingsley's voice was calm, his tone even, though she wasn't sure how he managed it.

"Perhaps I need more practice, boss."

"Maybe." His hand playfully smacked her already sore arse. "Oh, and Tonks," Kingsley said.

"Yes?" she answered.

"I don't know what your relationship with Charlie Weasley is exactly, but if it's not romantic in nature, you're going to have one hell of a time explaining to whomever you date, why his name is tattooed next to that dragon on your bum in blinking pink letters."

"DAMN HIM!"

Kingsley simply chuckled.

Fin.

_Author's Note: This was originally written for the May 2009 daily_deviant community at Insanejournal where our prompt was fingering._


End file.
